
ass. 



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i'Ki:si;nti:i) h-i- 




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}->_o-cxjc^ rVjLJ^vJ^i^vu Xo ^Xjj64, 



ADDRESSES 

ON 

SIR ROBERT WALPOLE 

AND 

REV. PHILLIPS PAYSON 

MEN PROMINENT IN THE EARLY 
HISTORY OF WALPOLE, MASS. 

GIVEN AT THE 
REQUEST OF CITIZENS OF THE TOWN 

BY 
ISAAC NEWTON LEWIS, ESQ. 



JFirsit l^istonral ^ocieip of malvok, ^a&&. 

1905 






Gill 
Autho) 
(Par«ea) 



TO 

MY TRUE-HEARTED 

AND 

LOVABLE SISTER 



First Historical Society, Walpole 



PREFACE 

THE First Historical Society of Walpole, familiarly 
known as the "Old Historical Guard," the sole 
relic and successor of the First Walpole Library Associa- 
tion of the beginning of the last century, for the purpose 
and in the hope of encouraging historical research and 
interesting the citizens of the town in unselfish and public- 
spirited labor for the town's welfare, selects this little 
tribute from its old, well-worn storehouse, and sends it 
forth with its most earnest God-speed. 

The last printed list of membership, that of 1826, 
gives the following names: Asa Allen, Lewis Allen, 
Nathaniel Bird, Eli Bonney, Leemon Boyden, Newell 
Boyden, George Bullard, Ebenezer W. Califf, Harvey 
Clap, Warren Clap, Ellis Clap, Levi Clap, Maynard B. 
Clap, Curtis Clap, Metcalf Clap, Truman Clarke, Francis 
Cole, Daniel Ellis, George P. Ellis, Jason Ellis, Hart- 
ford Ellis, Jesse Fairbanks, Squire M. Fales, Asa Fisher, 
Wilbur Gay, John Gilbert, Henry Goff, John A. Gould, 
Alvin Guild, Brayton Hartshorn, Willard Hartshorn, Asa 
Hartshorn, Joseph Hartshorn, Catherine Hartshorn, 
Richard Hartshorn, Ebenezer Hartshorn, Otis Hartshorn, 

[5] 



Joseph Hawes, Isaac Hunt, John Hunt, Fisher A. Kings- 
bury, Harlow Lawrence, WilHam Lewis, George H. 
Mann, Sally Messinger, Palmer Morey, Daniel Payson, 
Nathaniel Polley, jr., Ephraim Shepard, Joshua Stetson, 
Jr., Everett Stetson, Ebenezer Stone, Daniel Turner, 
Jonathan Ware, Asa Whitman, Warren Wild, Roland 
Willett, Horatio Wood. The Rev. J. P. B. Storer, who 
came to Walpole later, also joined. In 1865 the active 
historian list had narrowed down to Jeremiah Allen, 
Samuel Allen, Beeri Clark, James A. Dupee, James G. 
Hartshorn, Joshua B. Hanners, Isaac Newton Lewis, 
Rev. John M. Merrick, James P. Tisdale, and Horatio 
Wood, who endeavored both by speech and pen to make 
up in work what they lacked in numbers, until, at last, 
the formation of the second historical society may serve 
to continue their persevering labors. 

Walpole, May 30, 1905. 



[6] 



ADDRESS 



AT THE 



Presentation of an Oil Portrait 

of 

Sir Robert Walpole 



EARL OF ORFORD 



To the Town of Walpole, Mass. 



GIVEN AT THE WALPOLE TOWN 
HALL ON DECEMBER 20, I 892, THE 
1 68th ANNIVERSARY OF THE TOWN 



BY 



ISAAC NEWTON LEWIS, ESQ. 



jfir0t !^i0toncal feiocictp of laialpolf, Qpasgf. 

19 05 



ADDRESS 

Fellow Townsmen, Neighbors and Friends: 

THE feathery snowflakes, which for the past hour 
have so thickly fallen that they have carpeted the 
rough ground with a beautiful soft fleece, tempted me to 
decline the carriage so courteously sent by your selectmen, 
and meet you here after a long, exhilarating walk. Far 
as the eye can reach extends the unbroken level of purest 
white, canopied over by a broader expanse of deepest 
blue. How silent! Not a sound breaks upon the ear! 
And how beautiful! We are wont to think of these scenes 
as emblems, emblems of purity and fidelity. In olden 
time, moved by kindred emotions, wise men went about, 
drawing from sky and cloud, wmd and sea, even from 
rocks and trees and beasts of the field, homely lessons of 
inspiration and encouragement. One of these, in the 
form of a fable, one from the mouth of a poor slave, who 
afterwards gained his freedom for his wise sayings, is so 
appropriate to my subject I cannot but relate it. It 
formed, many years ago, my first lesson in Latin, and 
now stands forth conspicuously among my early memories. 
While an old lioness was passing through a crowd of 
lesser beasts with their numerous progeny, they all 

[7] 



began to make sport of her because she brought forth but 
one offspring at a time. "Only one," proudly replied 
the noble beast — "but a lion." 

Well might England, well might we, so answer for the 
little lusty lad who entered this world at Houghton, Nor- 
folk County, on the twenty-sixth day of August, 1676, — 
our namesake, the man who after all these long years of 
ignorance and neglect we, as a town, now for the first 
time meet to remember. We come to honor Caesar, not 
to praise him. Tried by our strict modern standards 
he would, I fear, fall far short, as many an honored man 
in public life here to-day; but compared with his country- 
men and the ways of that period, he stands preeminently 
tar above them. It is a strange coincidence that down 
to his death he was familiarly known as the toothless 
old lion. Yes, a lion — a lion among men! Shall we now 
be ashamed to acknowledge and honor him, whose name 
the town has so long borne in silence and neglect, the 
great statesman, who for more than twenty years held and 
exerted more influence than either ruler or people over 
the destinies of the whole civilized world ^ With shame 
for my native town, I confess that after continued in- 
quiries from one end of the town to the other, I have 
failed to find a single person, in all these years, who 
could tell me after whom it was our town was named. 
When the funeral sermon of our third minister, Rev. 
George Morey, was put in print, some one, priding himself 
on his superior knowledge, in the appendix states that 
the town was named after Horace Walpole, who, at the 
time the town was named, had barely got out of his origi- 

[8] 



nal garments or swaddling clothes. Such is fame! such 
are men! 

Norfolk County, England, lies well up into the North 
Sea, and its level moors are on every hand exposed to 
wind and wave, but nevertheless has ever been the home 
of many a well-to-do farmer and country squire. Pretty 
well up towards its northern shore lie Houghton, Castle 
Rising, and King's Lynn so closely connected with 
our namesake's family, and even now held by Lord 
Cholmondeley's descendants through Walpole's young- 
est daughter. You have but to look over the list of 
the royal favorites to find the prominence of the name 
in court circles. 

Robert Walpole was the youngest of three sons of 
Squire Walpole, a strong and useful adherent of William 
and Mary, who, soon after Robert's birth, gained in 1688 
the throne of England, a most memorable event in that 
country's history. Being a younger son and cut off from 
any expectation of inheritance by the law of primogeni- 
ture, Robert Walpole was early destined for the church. 

After a brief schooling at Masingham, he was taken 
by his father to a small but select school, just across the 
Thames from Windsor Castle, which some three hundred 
years before had, together with King's College, Cam- 
bridge, been created and endowed by the good but weak 
King Henry VL as Eton College. 

The boy appears to have been regarded, even then, as 
possessed of strong staying qualities, good-nature, un- 
usual capacity for methodical labor, but somewhat of 
the country boy's reserve and lack of self-reliance. 

[9] 



As he was one of the foundation scholars, on leaving 
Eton he entered King's College, Cambridge, in 1696. Two 
years later a great change in the Walpole family had 
taken place. Robert's two brothers had died, leaving 
the way clear to an ample inheritance. His father begged 
him to give up his studies, and come home to manage 
and care for the large estate. Like a faithful son, in 
1698 he left college and took up the usual round of a 
country squire's duties, the estates in the morning, hunting 
in the afternoon, and festivity around the board in the 
evening, all of which must have greatly influenced his 
after life. I detect here the beginning of his great love 
for horses, his frank expression and looseness of dress, 
so common among the hearty, careless husbandmen 
everywhere. 

On the death of his father in 1700, he succeeded to 
the broad acres, the numerous herds and flocks, and all 
to which, had they lived, his brothers would have been 
entitled. He at once married Katherine, daughter of 
John Shorter, Mayor of London, and, having applied 
some of her dowry in extinguishment of some incum- 
brances on his estates, found himself the fortunate pos- 
sessor of everything clear, and, in addition, an annual 
net income of $10,000. He, the poor struggling scholar 
of but two years before, found himself thus suddenly, not 
only independent in means, but entitled to represent two 
different districts in the House of Parliament. 

We can now see how- indispensable to his successful 
rise his prior education now became. For two years he 
represented Castle Rising, and then changed to King's 

[10] 



Lynn, which ever afterward stood by him until the end 
of his long and useful public career. He, in Parliament, 
early became the champion of the Whig cause, and in 
1705 was appointed privy councillor to Queen Anne's 
Consort, Prince George of Denmark, Lord High Admiral 
of England. In 1708 he became Secretary of War; in 
1709 Treasurer of the Navy and paymaster of the forces. 

Marlborough, the renowned Admiral, can thank our 
namesake for wise advice and helpful assistance in many 
a naval victory. Both men, however, were bitterly and, 
I need not say, unjustly assailed by enemies and even 
charged with peculation — Walpole, charged for being 
interested in the purchase of a lot of forage, was, in 
1 712, removed from office and sent to that most interest- 
ing old fortress, the Tower of London, where the aristo- 
cratical part of the Whig party for a year discussed and 
planned their future course and his liberation, which 
was soon effected, and his Tory enemies with chagrin 
saw they had only added to his popularity. 

No sooner out than he offered himself to his old 
constituents and was at once again elected to Parliament, 
when, with all the vigor and intensity of a self-reliant and 
wronged man, he brought to bay his Tory adversaries 
and raised his party again into power. 

I once read a statement, made at the time by one not 
over friendly to Walpole, which warmly deplored the in- 
justice and cruelty of the Tory treatment of Walpole and 
Marlborough, saying that had it been as clear as day that 
they were innocent of the charge brought against them, 
or even had no peculation ever occurred, their enemies, 



in their bitter excitement and clamor for their removal, 
would still have torn them from their places. Alas that 
it was so! But be it remembered to Walpole's credit, 
that during all his after long political life, though tempted 
sorely, and always holding absolute power when such 
treatment of enemies was common and expected, to such 
a baseness he never stooped. 

The solid qualities of Walpole's character soon raised 
him to the very front. George I., who succeeded Queen 
Anne, a Hanoverian prince, a German, could not even 
speak the English language and often paid long visits 
to his native land. Some strono- as well as wise hand 
was constantly needed. In 1715 Walpole became Lord 
High Chancellor of the Exchequer but resigned, and First 
Lord of the Treasury two years later. The money had 
become debased and speculation ran rife over the whole 
world. In 1720 he again became paymaster of the 
forces. The infamous South Sea scheme, which like an 
octopus menaced all, suddenly burst, spreading ruin and 
suffermg everywhere. 

Walpole, with his giant intellect and resolute courage, 
seized the forces, the country's resources, and the panic- 
stricken masses, all in one, and with superhuman per- 
severance and energy, saved not only individuals but the 
nation itself from bankruptcy and utter ruin. Who 
thinks of that to-day ? And, even then, how long did 
his countrymen remember ? 

In 1 72 1, shortly after, Robert Walpole became prime 
minister of all England. He needs no apologists for his 
subsequent long and eventful career of twentv vears in 



office. The time for abuse has long ceased. The very 
acts so successfully assailed by his enemies are to-day 
received with unstinted praise. He was ever a friend of 
the strugghng colonies. Against measures for taxing us 
over here, to support the home government, or to re- 
strict our industries, Walpole ever firmly stood with our 
forefathers, and patiently strove to show the home govern- 
ment that, in levying a tax or hampering an industry 
it would, in the end, discourage and ruin all progress 
and healthy endeavor. No wonder that Vermont, Maine, 
and Massachusetts have sought to honor him by taking 
his name. We do well now to awaken an interest in his 
memory. 

Meanwhile, on this side of the Atlantic, the very year 
of Sir Robert Walpole's birth. King Philip and his treach- 
erous bands had swooped down on three of our exposed 
towns, Lancaster, Wrentham, and Medfield, killing and 
burning all in their way. At Lancaster one of my family, 
her husband and her children, in their house just outside 
of the stockade, before an alarm could be given, were 
set upon and tomahawked in cold blood, and the rest of 
my family scattered abroad, my immediate ancestor 
escaping to the north bank of the mill stream in what is 
now East Dedham, then Dorchester, where his descend- 
ants have continued to live to this day. Medfield, as 
you know, though not completely destroyed, met with 
serious losses, while Wrentham saved two of her houses, 
so carefully guarded by the Lidian scourge, smallpox, 
that the red men, on learning how matters stood, ran 
therefrom as from the evil one himself. 

[■3] 



Among the early settlers in what comprises our present 
town limits were James Fales, 1 homas Clap, James 
Bardens, John Bullard, Isaac Bullard, Samuel BuUard, 
Jonathan Boyden, John Boyden, Joseph Boyden, Caleb 
Church, Ephraim Clark, Eleazer Clap, Stephen Clap, 
Joshua Clap, Samuel Clap, Joseph Carroll, Moses 
Chamberlain, Nathaniel Coney, Tobias Doable, Jeremiah 
Day, Jeremiah Gould, Jacob Ellis, Ebenezer Fales, 
Peter Fales, Joseph Fisher, Daniel Fisher, William 
Fisher, Nathaniel Guild, John Guild, Joseph Hartshorn, 
Thomas Hartshorn, John and Benjamin Hall, Samuel 
Kingsbury, Isaac Lewis, Peter Lyon, Ezra Morse, 
Daniel Morse, Obadiah Morse, Jedediah Morse, Joseph 
Morse, Josiah Morse, Samuel Parker, Eleazer Partridge, 
Robert Allen, Joseph Pettee, William Robbins, Ezekiel 
Robbins, Ebenezer Robbins, Joseph Smith, Daniel 
Smith, Quinton Stockwell, Samuel Shears, John Turner, 
Ebenezer Turner, Henry White. James Fales I believe 
to have been the first white man to permanently settle 
here, and probably his troubles with the Indians had 
something to do with getting our last conveyance from 
them through Sagamore Wampituck. This covered their 
hunting and fishing ground and included the place of my 
birth in the easterly part of the town. 

In 1 7 17, during the ministry of Rev. Joseph Belcher, 
the little body of householders living near the old saw- 
mill here, tired of going eight or nine miles to Dedham 
Town to church, petitioned that town for freedom from 
church taxation, conditioned on their paying their church 
tithes elsewhere. This was granted, our forefathers here 

[U] 



sometimes holding services in their several houses and 
sometimes going to churches less distant than Dedham. 

When, in 1723, the Rev. Samuel Dexter came to the 
Dedham church, however, this freedom was refused. 
The result was to excite here a lively spirit of resentment. 
Our forefathers promptly asked for a separation from 
the mother town. No one can blame them. The dis- 
tance to church and town meeting was some nine miles, 
and the unfortunate tardy or absent were forced to pay a 
fine quite equal to many days' savings. 

Our old sawmill, taxed by Dedham to Thomas Clap 
as early as 1664, at or near which there was at least one 
house, must have been located somewhere between the 
old Dorchester and Dedham line, practically Washington 
Street, and a point on the Neponset River nearly opposite 
Oak Street, were it extended to that stream. The Ded- 
ham records place it on a "brook" called Sawmill Brook. 
Spring Brook was, as early as 1715, called "Spice Brook," 
and "the Brook." Ever since the town was incorporated, 
old deeds bear evidence that there was an old dam on 
School Meadow Brook, and that the hill by the Bradford 
Billings place was called "Old Dam Hill." If we were 
obliged to strictly construe the Dedham records, we 
would be obliged to conclude that this old dam was 
probably the site of that old mill, but no one can account 
for records, though they be public. It may have been 
that the old mill was just below, where the brook enters 
the Neponset, and that the brook and river were con- 
founded. 

All my life I have amused myself with this old mill's 

[■5] 



situation. It was built by Joshua Fisher and Eleazer 
Lusher, soon after 1658. Some have claimed it for North 
Walpole, some for Ellis's in Norwood, some for Morse's on 
the Plain, and some for Stetson's — a wide choice certainly. 
Thomas Clap, its second owner, lived opposite Stetson's, 
which may account for that claim. But wherever the 
mill was situated, it was too much to expect the families 
in its neighborhood to long tramp eight or nine miles to 
church and town meeting at Dedham Town . 

As you can imagine, their request to be allowed to 
separate and found a town of their own was as spiritedly 
refused as demanded. Our people here, it seems, had a 
good stock of helpful grit. It kept them constantly 
working on their many grievances, till they finally either 
wore out or convinced their old Dedham neighbors of 
the justice of their demands. 

In 1723 Dedham voted to allow a separation, and in 
1724 a bill was entered in General Court of the Province 
of Massachusetts Bay for the incorporation of that part 
of the southerly portion of Dedham near the old saw- 
mill, between Hawes Brook, which now runs from the 
Ellis paper mill, and the Dorchester line. 

Many were the hitches and delays in council and in 
court. The petition had not suggested any name for 
the new town, and it is not until late in the proceedings 
that one can find any intimation of what it is to be. 

Major John Quincy, the founder of Quincy and the 
Quincy and Quincy Adams families, and who repre- 
sented the old Township of Braintree, with Col. John 
Palmer of Woodstock and Col. Robert Spurr of Dor- 

[16] 



Chester, was appointed a committee to view the lands and 
report at the next session. After some further delay, on 
December 7 the name of Walpole was selected, and on 
December 10, 1724 (old style), the bill of incorporation 
passed its final stage. Ebenezer Fales, who is called a 
principal citizen of the place, was directed to call a meet- 
ing of the mhabitants, which he at once did. 

That any one here suggested the name of Walpole for 
the new town, I very much doubt. It was customary 
for the governor, his assistants or the council, always 
closely connected with the home government, to brook 
no opposition in such matters. They probably selected 
the name and afterwards claimed all the honor. The 
people had got all they asked in their hard contested 
separation from the mother town, and did not, as is apt 
to be the case at the present time, stand for the trifle of a 
name. 

Thus some twenty householders, pent up in their rude, 
unpainted, and widely scattered habitations, became the 
town of Walpole. One of the conditions of its existence 
was that the inhabitants should build a church, support 
a minister of the gospel, and provide for the education 
of the young. A church building was soon begun. 
There was plenty of good timber and Ebenezer Fales and 
Peter Lyon had a convenient sawmill. We would call 
the structure that arose a barn. The old path from 
Medfield intersected the old sawmill or Wrentham Road 
nearly where the former road reaches West Street now, 
and there on a little rise, nearly in front of the Nathaniel 
Biid estate, facing the northeast with its little belfry, rose 

[17] 



the ungainly structure of our first church. Rev. Joseph 
Belcher, our first minister, after a troubled ministry of 
some three years, left for Pennsylvania, and the Rev. 
Phillips Payson of Dorchester was called to the vacancy. 
He asked that the meetmg house be fully completed, and 
some provision made for his comfortable subsistence. 
A few years later, Thomas Clap and Ebenezer Fales sold 
to him the old Peter Fales place, bought by them in 1727 
of Peter Fales 2d, where he ever after lived. 

I need not speak of those old Walpole boys, constituting 
our old pastor's worthy family. It was one of the most 
remarkable families our country has ever produced. 
There were Phillips, Jr., John, Samuel, and Seth, all 
graduates of my own Harvard College, and all patriotic 
and public-spirited ministers of the gospel. 

Not far from the church, over there by the Lewis 
Batting Mills, stood another public resort, the old Brass 
Ball Tavern, kept by Ezekiel Robbins. Something else 
than rum and brandy was also kept there. A slave; yes, 
Jack the slave. In this tavern keeper we did not have 
the town's first, but I hope the last, rumseller and slave- 
holder. Human misery has ever been and ever will be 
the just punishment of both iniquitous livelihoods, which 
indelibly stain the good name of all concerned therewith. 

The town received the name of Walpole at the begin- 
ning of his twenty years as prime minister and before he 
had received his many evidences of royal favor. Soon 
after, in 1725, he received the decoration of the order of 
Knights of the Bath, which was followed in 1726 by 
Knight of the Garter, It is in the rich costume of crimson 

[.8] 










(SttimmtMaiM 



• ,.■..- ^■•^.s^.c^^r^v^^ 



ETONIAN PORTRAIT OF SIR ROBERT WALPOLE, ILLUSTRIOUS NAMESAKE 

OF THE TOWN 

Presented to the town on its 16S//i anniversary by Isaac Xeirtan Leans 



cloak, with brilliant star, blue sash, and gold trimmed, 
black velvet cocked hat, which distinguished the Knights 
of the Garter of that period, that the contemporary artist 
Richardson painted him for Eton College, and in which 
he will first appear before you in my offering to the town 
to-day. 

On the death of George I. in 1727, the good Queen 
Caroline inspired, despite his enemies, his son, George II., 
to continue Walpole in office, and until he was created 
Earl of Orford in 1742 the care, management, and con- 
trol of the premiership rested solely in his able hands. 
Then it was his country breeding, sound constitution, 
affable manners, and great capacity for work proved their 
indispensableness. Few men, even in times of peace 
and freedom from opposition, could, for any length of 
time, have lived under the strain of his grave responsi- 
bilities. During this period Walpole inaugurated the 
bonded warehouse system, improved the coinage, in- 
sisted that the revenue should be raised on the luxuries 
rather than on the necessaries of life, and until, in 1739, 
he was forced against his will into a war with Spain, who 
was then laying claim to a large part of America, main- 
tained a healthy, peaceful policy towards all, both at home 
and abroad — so that, as contemporary historians assert, 
under his fostering care, our colonies here advanced in 
wealth and enterprise with leaps and bounds. His first 
wife, Katherine, at this time died, and should you ever 
visit Westminster Abbey, go and see her memorial. It 
stands close by that of Queen Elizabeth and Queen Mary. 

Walpole's far-sighted policy did not save him from 

[■9] 



enemies, however. The wiser the poHcy the more vicious 
became the opposition. They bitterly and, it would 
seem, enviously, began to combine against him. The 
increase of the liquor tax, the failure of the army and 
navy to at all times successfully cope with the Spanish 
troops, indifference to certain literary critics, and a jealous, 
uncontrollable itching for his envied, long possessed 
office, stirred up such a fierce clamor, our worthy name- 
sake, still active but well worn out, begged the king to 
allow him to resign. The king, knowing his great use- 
fulness, refused. The prime minister then met his 
enemies in Parliament in open debate, and well did he 
then prove his claim to the name of the toothless old 
lion, for he not only again beat his opponents, but, for a 
time, utterly silenced them. 

His enemies, however, knowing the old care-worn man's 
yearning for a return to the peaceful life on his old Nor- 
folk farm, soon after renewed their opposition and abuse, 
until, in 1742, the king, yielding, raised him to the earldom 
of Orford, and after an unexampled life of twenty consecu- 
tive years of constant care and labor he resigned, and 
betook himself at once to the restful old Houghton farm 
of his childhood. For some three years his care-worn 
mind and body struggled on, but finally, attacked by a 
disease which proved too much for his wasted strength, 
on the 1 8th of March, 1745, his troubled spirit finally 
sank to rest. 

Friends and neighbors, let not the simplicity of this 
brief service conceal from you the greatness and impor- 
tance of this worthy man. After many long and futile 

[20] 



searches abroad, I at last found the portrait which I now 
present the town. Take it, gentlemen of the Board of 
Selectmen. Preserve it. There on the walls of your 
chief public building, the portrait of your long neglected 
namesake has been tenderly hung, and, as a proper mark 
of just regard, let it stand, and go down if go down it 
must, only with these walls. Fellow townsmen, one and 
all, for the first time, after all these years, your illustrious 
patron looks down upon you. 



[21] 




THE PRESENT LNHARIAN CHURCH, WALPOLE CENTRE, THE 
REV. MR. STORER'S CHURCH 



ADDRESS 



AT THE 



Two Hundredth Anniversary 

of 

Rev. Phillips Payson 

Second Minister of Walpole, Mass., 1704- 1778 



BY 



ISAAC NEWTON LEWIS, ESQ. 

Ltfe member of American Historical Association of Smithsonian 
Institution, Washington, D. C, anu Nezv England Historical 
Society, Beacon Hill, Boston, Mass. 



JFitst l^isftorical feorietp ot flflialpole. 9^a&0. 

1 9 .3 



ADDRESS 

Strangers, Schoolmates and Friends: 

AS I look down upon your upturned faces and 
realize the unusual character of this large gather- 
ing, my mind reverts to another scene, to a group around 
a statue, the most beautiful a master hand could create. 
"^'Look," exclaimed a young man; "its whole face is con- 
cealed." "Yes," explained an old man near, "it wishes 
never to be seen!" "But look there," insisted the young 
man again, "they have put wings on its feet!" "Yes," 
again replied the old man, "yes, it is ever on its flight. 
Young man, this beautiful figure typifies opportunity." 

One hundred and seventy-five years! One hundred 
and seventy-five years has this beautiful opportunity 
been flitting in and out among you here, and never till 
this very hour been even noticed. I was urged by your 
committee to come here to-day and speak to you of our 
early pastor and his family. You can at once easily see 
the difficulties in my path. How much can any of you 
tell me of your grandparents ? Can you tell me anything 
about your great-grandparents ^ And yet I am expected 
to tell you much, if not everything, about your great- 
great-grandparents! The dim past holds much we would 

{23] 



know, but whoever ventures into its vast domain, though 
possessed of ardent zeal and a martyr's fondness for dis- 
appointment and failure, bears on his return very little, 
if any, treasure. The few gems I bring to you to-day — 
the discoveries of a lifetime — uncut, unpolished, and 
without their fitting setting, I wish to offer as a little 
tribute to two of my old-time and valued friends, both 
bearing the Payson name, and now alike, for many 
a year, in their long last sleep. 

The large, expressive eye, into whose luminous depths 
children wonderingly gazed as into a summer's mid- 
night sky, the genial smile, the gentle hand fluttering 
down upon the upturned face, her whole presence radiant 
with rare cordiality and welcome — I need not name her. 
Her father's family, together with that of Mr. Nathaniel 
Bird, on the old division in Walpole's first church and 
society, followed the fortunes of the church below. The 
other, not so well known here, but, I hope, not entirely 
unknown, the same genial smile, kind heart, and 
earnest spirit, ever reaching out to grasp and welcome, 
who, in my college days, opened to rich and poor alike 
the Gushing place — he had married into that family — 
with its beautifully shaded walks and drives, ornamented 
with statuary and everything beautiful and fragrant in 
tree, shrub, and flower from a tropical clime, — a rare 
sight in those days, for we then had only our Forest Hills 
and Mount Auburn, not even the Boston Public Garden, 
— and who, on his purchase of the Manchester Mills, 
was, I believe, the highest type of our worthy New Eng- 
land manufacturing class, and even to-day, when we 

[ -'4 ] 



constantly suffer from vexatious and needless conflicts 
between capital and labor, the truest guide for both 
employer and employee — Samuel Russell Payson of 
Belmont. 

Phillips Payson — who, what was he ? If I was to char- 
acterize, in a very few words, the man and his claims on 
this town and community, I think it would stand very 
much like this. Phillips Payson, sound teacher, for 
nearly half a century faithful pastor and earnest preacher 
of God's word among this people, wise counsellor and 
worthy father of a family, distinguished through the 
length and breadth of their native land for Christian 
usefulness, public spirit, and lofty patriotism. Of no 
other man can I say this, no one nearer than Boston, and, 
in want of bronze or stone, let it boldly stand forth in 
each memory, as one of the most precious birthrights 
of our native town. However unappreciated our own 
short lives may be, let no tongue be silent at the good and 
noble deeds of others. 

There are two events in the early history of our country, 
which, combining, are the cause of our being here to-day. 
One, that ten years after the landing of the little band 
of Pilgrims at Plymouth, there came sailing westward 
across the great ocean, up past the feeble Plymouth 
Colony, into the more northern portions of Massachu- 
setts Bay, fifteen hundred human souls. Among this 
o;oodly number were Gov. John Winthrop and the Rev. 
George Phillips and his son Samuel, the latter the 
maternal grandfather of our old pastor, of whom I may 
not have time to speak. These settled and founded 

[^5] 



Boston, Maiden, Watertown, Salem, Roxbury, and Dor- 
chester. 

Five years later, on account of the increased troubles 
and conflicts at home which were leading to the noble 
and heroic struggles of Hampden, Cromwell, and their 
patriotic co-workers for civil and religious liberty, there 
came to the same shores the host of three thousand. On 
settling down, they found, to be true to their own church 
polity, which required all voters and holders of office to 
be members of the church, they must have churches and 
consequently ministers of the gospel. There was plenty of 
lumber for the one, but to go to the mother country for 
the other was impracticable if not impossible. I doubt 
there were enough non-conforming ministers in the mother 
country, even then, to meet the demand, and nothing 
but a non-conformist would have been acceptable. To 
send their youth over to the mother country for proper 
education was equally impracticable. Our forefathers 
wisely came to a prompt decision, and, in general court 
of the Province of Massachusetts Bay, declared that they 
must have a school of their own — and in 1636 appro- 
priated a sum of money for the endowment of such an 
institution at Newtown, a small settlement up the Charles 
River but in plain sight from their old Beacon Hill in 
Boston. 

Nathaniel Eaton was selected to educate all who should 
come to him there with suitable qualifications. He re- 
ceived them all into his own household and fed them 
mentally, morally and physically, although this last the 
boys stoutly denied, and vowed they did not get any- 

[z6] 




HARVARD COLLEGE DURING THE COLLEGE DAYS OF REV. PHILLIPS 

PAYSON, SR. 

Now Massachu!<''tts Hall. Built hy the Province of Massachusetts Bay in 1720 



thing to eat, and that Eaton was nothing but an old 
tyrant anyway. But those very same boys, their children 
and their children's children, in after years often had to 
go far hungrier, and to often face something less imagi- 
nary, even to the loss of both blood and lives. 

Before Eaton had completed a separate school build- 
ing, a goodly, pious but weakly clergyman, who had 
graduated from Emmanuel College, Cambridge, England, 
and had struggled a time against the fatal east winds of 
Charlestown, where he had settled some time before, 
gave up the unequal contest and left to this infant insti- 
tution on the Charles, among other things, ;^700 and his 
entire library, a fortune in those days. 

In grateful recognition of this well timed and generous 
gift of John Harvard, our forefathers in 1638 gave their 
little school his name and called it Harvard College. 
They even went further, changing the name of the settle- 
ment from Newtown to the name of the place of the 
worthy clergyman's education, Cambridge. Shortly after 
Eaton was dismissed, and the college building com- 
pleted under the supervision of a member of the board of 
control. 

The Rev. Henry Dunster in 1640 was made the head 
of the college under the title of president, and two years 
later the first class, a class of nine young men, of whom 
five were ministers, two doctors, and one afterwards a 
knight and baronet of England and a comrade of Oliver 
Cromwell, finally graduated. The Dunster building, as 
Cambridge was then on the frontier and exposed to Indian 
attack, was built with its entire second story overhanging 
' [27l 



the first, the common style of frontier buildings of that 
period. Down to my time, though removed, it still stood, 
down by the old horse-car station. 

Its place was occupied by an approved permanent hall 
of red brick when the general court saw, in 1718, that a 
new and more lasting buildmg was needed. This was 
required to be one hundred feet long and fifty feet wide, 
with three stories in height, and to be called, as at present, 
after the State, Massachusetts Hall. 

The other historical event was, that among the arrivals 
in 1635 was the little ship Hopewell with its Hving freight 
from Nazing, England, among whom were Giles and 
Edward Payson, both of whom settled in Roxbury. I 
am inclined to think that they were of French descent, 
and that if you Paysons, now before me, would make 
diligent search across the ocean, you would find your 
earliest ancestors not in England but on the continent. 
You, who are familiar with the French language, will 
readily see the close resemblance between Payson and 
paysan, the French to designate a dweller in the 
country from one in a town. Furthermore, when in 
Brittany, Normandy, and other parts of France, I 
have caught myself comparing many a dark eye and 
head of black hair with a memory of those I now see 
belonging to a whole pew of Payson offspring just be- 
low me. 

The Eliots, Heaths, and Paysons of early Roxbury 
were old neighbors in their old English home. Giles 
Payson is called, in the early Roxbury records, a husband- 
man, as was Edward in his later years, but at first 

[28] 



Edward is described as a man-servant. What a man- 
servant for you was that, my Payson friends. 

A good many years ago, a few of us Boston lawyers, 
who did not stop at hard work or want of precedent, 
realizing that the public records of Suffolk County — 
and Suffolk County, down to after the Revolutionary war, 
included this territory even to the Rhode Island line — 
would soon be irreparably disfigured and lost for all 
accurate practical purposes, banded ourselves together 
to secure municipal sanction, and, if possible, preserva- 
tion in print of the oldest and most precious of them. 
To our great pleasure, we succeeded, the Aldermen of 
Boston, as Commissioners of Suffolk County, in an appre- 
ciative spirit, gratefully appropriating enough money for 
the proper publication of the first book of Suffolk Deeds. 

This was but the beginning of a much needed work, 
which has now spread to the Probate Office and other 
departments of Boston. What others may feel, as I see 
before me one who afterward took up our work, I must 
say, for my part, I am not sorry for either time or money. 

In that first publication, and very near its beginning, 
you will find the name of this same Edward Payson. It 
is as a witness, by the side of that of John Dudley, in a 
deed to Deputy Gov. Thomas Dudley of the Province 
of Massachusetts Bay. Why was the signature there ^ 
Evidently because the Governor desired to have upon his 
deed the names of two men he could trust, in event of 
any trouble or question concerning ownership or title of 
the property. Edward Payson was to be trusted then, 
trusted by the next to the highest official in the Province. 

[29] 



He could also write his name, although I find, after that, 
he sometimes made his mark. So do not he disturbed, 
Edward Payson was an uncommonly valuable and able 
man. He may, like a great many other young men, 
for he was not more than twenty-five, have been in- 
dentured before he set sail, to procure means to reach 
this country, but no mere menial. It was a most un- 
fortunate use of the word. If you wish to visit the House 
of Parliament to-day, you must first go and obtain a 
permit from the High Chamberlain. He does not make 
the bed or sweep out the sleeping-room of his royal 
superior. He is a peer of the realm - a lord. Neither, 
in all probability, did Edward Payson black the boots or 
groom the horse of his master. Was he secretary, tutor, 
or what .? We are all servants, and we, who are often 
envied the most, sometimes in our service come in con- 
tact with some pretty pitiable officials. 

But watch the subsecjuent life of Edward Payson! 
Before leaving Roxbury he married Ann Parke, daughter 
of Deacon William Parke, well known as one of the 
committee in the dispute between the Town of Dedham 
and the Rev. John Eliot, Apostle to the Indians, about 
Natick lands claimed by the Christian Indians. Ihis 
wife died, leaving but one child. Again he marries, and 
to whom ? Mary Eliot. Who was Mary Eliot .? Savage 
says that she probably was a daughter of the Rev. John 
Eliot; but when Savage says "probably," I always look 
farther. She is considered as being the sister of Eliot, 
having come over with his brother Philip. Did you ever 
know of an Eliot marrying a mere menial, from then 

lio] 



even to our present worth)' Charles WiUiani ? Of this 
union were born twelve children, the younger being born 
in Dorchester where the father removed to become a 
husbandman. 

The farm was on the border of both towns. Here 
ever afterward Edward Payson lived, and here he died, 
leaving behmd him that always interesting document, 
a will. How much this simple document influenced the 
worldly career of our worthy pastor can only be imagined, 
for, among its provisions, was that each of his grand- 
children should have that most precious of all books, a 
Bible. Fortunate then was the child who could call one 
his own, and sound was the gradual upbuilding of its 
owner's mind and character. Ihe names of the testator's 
old friends, Dudley and Ruggles, after whom our well- 
known Ro.xbury thoroughfares received their names, 
appear side by side also on this last will and testament, 
thus testifying for the testator their lifelong regard. 

Of Kdward Pavson's family, I will speak of but two, 
Edward and Samuel. Edward, the more ambitious of 
the two, early sought an education in the old log school- 
house, on the westerly side of Meeting House Hill, to 
enable him in 1673 to enter that then e.xpanding little 
institution on the Charles of which we have spoken. 
His class graduated in 1677, only si.\ in number, four of 
whom, including Pavson, becoming ministers of the 
gospel. Upon receiving the sanction of the council of 
ministers, he went up to the new town of Rowley to assist 
the Rev. Samuel Phillips, of whom 1 have heretofore 
spoken. 

[3'] 



Now the daughters of this worthy man were goodly 
and fair to look upon, and our young assistant began 
thinking how much sweeter the name of Elizabeth would 
sound if she were only a Payson. He somehow soon 
prevailed on the girl to think so too. That was the first 
Elizabeth Payson, although there were many after her. 
It is now, as then, a most beautiful name. 

Of this union came the somewhat startling but glorious 
family of twenty souls. Do not think, you modern 
parents, that cipher was surreptitiously added. It was 
not. I took the precaution to examine the record, a 
record kept by an entirely disinterested official. Let the 
Paysons bear in mind that in this father you have not 
only the largest home producer, but the first ot your 
large number to graduate from a college or preach the 
gospel. The family name Phillips, used as a given 
name, so common afterward, also springs up here first, 
in the little son of this Edward and Elizabeth, but whose 
short life was soon run. This Rev. Samuel Phillips was 
not only the maternal grandfather of our old pastor, but, 
as well, the worthy progenitor of John Phillips, Mayor 
of Boston, Wendell Phillips, Phillips Brooks, and the 
worthy founders of our two important institutions ot 
learning, Judge Samuel Phillips of the Phillips Andover 
Academy, and John Phillips of the Phillips Exeter Academy, 
a truly bright galaxy of fixed human stars as the world 
has ever witnessed. Joseph Payson, one of the Boston 
Tea Party, was also the son of our old pastor's cousin. 

Now, Edward's brother Samuel, also of Dorchester, 
soon, it seems, took a strong liking for his sister-in-law, 

[32] 



because he could not resist the charms of her sister Mary. 
She, good soul, soon followed in the footsteps of her older 
sister, producing the unusual family situation of two 
sisters marrying brothers. 

Of this latter parentage, among several prior, came 
into Dorchester, one cold day in the last of February, 
1704, a little fellow, whom his doting mother got the Rev. 
Mr. Danforth to christen after her father's family name, 
Phillips. We are, then, — a matter of more interest to me 
than to my ministerial friends behind me, and something 
I hope you descendants will hand down to posterity, — 
to-cjay celebrating the two hundredth anniversary of 
our worthy pastor's birth. 

I wish right here to warn you against the many errors 
you will find, both in print and manuscript, concerning 
this child's given name. Even in the early printed 
records of his birthplace, wherever you find it mentioned, 
you will find it called Philip. I have been obliged to 
correct this error even in the Probate Office in Boston. 
Starting out with the common-sense view that a man 
knows best what his name is, and if not, his parents do, 
I sailed clear of the dangerous shoals which had over- 
turned Savage and many another less known historian. 
The original deed of my homestead, which my family has 
carefully preserved for some one hundred and sixty years, 
bears, as witnesses as clearly defined as though written 
yesterday, the names Phillips and Anne Payson, written 
by themselves. On this document the name clearly 
appears as Phillips. Furthermore, his acceptance of the 
call to the ministry here was signed PhiUips, not Philip. 

[33] 



So also the last signature he ever made, that to his last 
will and testament. So all this trouble our pastor knew 
nothing of. It was left to incompetent and officious 
scribblers or historical societies to make the deplorable 
error and, what is worse still, perpetuate it. One writes 
that knowing the grandson, an able and worthy man, 
it is to him a sacred duty to remove the grievous error in 
his grandsire's name, and thinks he has done a highly 
commendable act by trying to prove Phillips Payson's 
mother was an entirely different person from the one 
both he and his own father knew her to be. Ah well! 
even to-day, right here, I have listened to enough errors to 
raise in my own mind grave doubts on the advisability 
of such public occasions without some competent super- 
vision. 

In Phillips Payson's childhood, no one was permitted 
to attend school unless he could easily read and spell. 
The schoolmaster had complained to the town, and the 
town had declared that he need receive none but those 
able to readily read the Psalter. The old, rudely built 
schoolhouse on Meeting House Hill must have had cast 
on it many a longing look, perhaps by Phillips Payson him- 
self, before he was allowed within its walls. The interior 
was most soberly appointed. Affixed to the rear wall, 
and the sides adjoining, was a plain board seat, while 
the front was entirely taken up by a large fireplace and 
doorway. It was a long while before the teacher had 
whereupon to rest his often weary limbs. He finally 
mustered courage and complained. Then the town 
voted to build for him a bench. But he had still another 

[34] 



grievance. He had no place for the Thesaurus. On 
repeated complaints, he finally got the town to build 
him a form for that. 

Now, can any one here tell me what that strangely 
sounding thing could have been ? When I come across 
its ugly form, visions of those gigantic prehistoric shapes, 
seen in my childhood at Agassiz Museum, reaching from 
floor to ceiling and mysteriously labeled Mastodon, Mega- 
therium, and Dinosaurus, ever leap up before my puzzled 
fancy. You can easily imagine little Phillips Payson 
reaching for the first time that old, rude schoolhouse 
door, his mother's warm kiss and the ruddy glow of 
mounting the steep hillside still fresh upon his cheek, 
and being there met by a long-haired, grimly smiling, 
bespectacled and ear-bequilled being, his right hand 
nervously grasping a birch while his left lav concealed 
somewhere behind his gaunt frame, and when his tender 
ears first caught, "Well, my man — come you in. Come 
you in. I will try you with the Psalter and then we 
will take a turn or two with the Thesaurus." Wonder 
not if he leaped back and descended as fast as feet 
and breath could carry him down to his mother's safe 
door, and eagerly explained that his head did not feel 
quite well enough for public school, and finally trem- 
blingly begged, "Say, mother, what kmd of a bear is a 
Thesaurusticum .?" Perhaps even the mother, good 
soul, could not tell, and snatched up her child in anxious 
fear his illness had really affected his little brain. Or 
perhaps she, as abruptly as warmly, gave instant expres- 
sion to her pent-up feelings. "It's that old dictionary 

[35] 



again. If I were a man, I would call a dictionary a dic- 
tionary, and not go frightening little children half out of 
their wits." 

However, Phillips Payson in good time came and con- 
tinued his studies at this little school until he was sixteen 
years old, when his parents took him over to the little 
college in Cambridge, where, years before, his Uncle 
Edward had learned to become a minister. John Leverett 
was then its president, and Henry Flynt and Edward 
Wigglesworth teachers, all eminent in their day. 

If any would see Harvard College as she was during 
our old pastor's four years of study there, you have but 
to go over to Harvard Square and turn in at the first 
large gateway, nearly in front of the Unitarian Church, and 
there it still rises right before you to your right, in the 
venerable brick structure, always, from even before 
Payson's time, known as Massachusetts Hall, and all 
that Harvard College could boast of for many a year 
after. It was an imposing structure then. It is much 
more than an old building now; for within its walls 
the infant army, over which George Washington took 
command under the old elm just down the street, was 
long housed, while their commander occupied the old 
wooden building just a little to the northeast, always 
called, after the president following Leverett, the Wads- 
worth House. On driving the British out of Boston, 
Washington led his troops out and away from the college 
halls to the Long Island campaign, and the college boys 
came back from Concord and Andover where they had 
been meanwhile sent. 

[36] 



In 1 72 1, Samuel Payson died, leaving the following will: 

In the name of God, Amen, this six and twentieth day of No- 
vember, in the year of our Lord God one thousand seven hundred 
and twenty-one, I Samuel Payson of Dorchester, being sick and weak, 
but of sound disposing mind blessed be God therefor, Do make this 
my last will and Testament. 

Imp^. I give my Soul to God, who gave it, in hopes of acceptance in 
and through the Merits of Christ, and my Body to be decently buried, 
and further my Will is, that my just Debts and Funeralls be paid with 
all convenient Speed as may be by my Executors that shall hereafter 
be named. 

Item, I give my whole Estate to my loving Wife Mary untill all my 
Children come of Age, and after my Children come of Age, my Will is 
that my Wife shall have half my Dwelling House and half the Cellar, 
and one Cow kept for her, and one good Swine fatted, and Twenty 
Pounds a Year for the Space of Ten Years, to be paid by my two Execu- 
tors, and they to find my Wife her fire Wood. And after the Ten Years, 
my Will is that my two Executors shall pay to my Wife Ten Pounds a 
year and find her fire Wood fit for the fire, and keep her a Cow and a 
good Swine fatted yearly during her Natural Life. 

Item, I give to my five Daughters Sarah and Mary and Dorcas and 
Elizabeth and Ann fourscore Pounds apiece, Sarah and Mary have had 
theirs already. 

And further my Will is that the three Daughters that have received 
Nothing, Dorcas, Elizabeth and Ann shall have theirs at Marriage, but 
if any of them live unmarried till they come to Thirty years of Age, then 
my Will is that they shall have Twenty Pounds on the Interest of it, and 
no more during the Life of their Mother. 

Item I give to my two sons Edward and George Payson all my 
Housing and Lands and all my Movables abroad, that is to say, my 
Cattle and Horses and Cart and Tackling to be equally Divided between 
them. 

Further my Will is that Wife shall take the whole Care and Charge 
of bringing up my Son Phillips Payson at College. 

[37] 



Item, I give to my Son Phillips Payson Fourscore Pounds in Bills of 
Credit or Currant money as it then passes from Man to Man to be paid 
by my Executors, Twenty Pounds to be paid as soon as he has taken 
his Second Degree, and the other Sixty Pounds five years after. 

Item, My Will is that my Sons Edward and George shall have the 
Priviledge of the Springs in my Houselot. 

Item I give all my Householdstuffs to my Wife so long as she remains 
my Widow, but if she marries, but one third part. And at her Decease 
to be Equally Divided between my five Daughters. And further my 
Will is that my Executors shall pay the Legacies given to my Daughters 
that have not received already in Bills of Credit or Currant Money. 

Item I give to my Son Phillips my great Bible and my Silver Cup, 
and I appoint my two Sons Edward and George Payson Executors ot 
this my last Will and Testament, hereby revoking all other Wills. 

Samuel Payson [Seal] 

Signed, Sealed Published — Pronounced and Declared to be his last 
Will and Testament In presence ot us. Thomas Evans, Benjamin 
Tucker, Ebenezer Holmes. 

Phillips Payson graduated in 1724 at the age of twenty 
years, in a class of forty, one of whom was a kinsman on 
his mother's side. Of his classmates I will mention but 
three: Andrew Oliver, Deputy Governor of the Province, 
Dr. Zabdiel Boyslton, the first to practise moculation in 
this country, and thus a public benefactor. When we 
consider the fricrhtful ravages of the disease it so vic- 
toriously assailed, whole tribes of redmen being at one 
time removed, and often whole English households, 
our old pastor, even, losing two of his brothers, while in 
college, in an epidemic which spread through Boston, 
Roxbury, and Dorchester, we heartily exclaim, All hail, 
then, to Dr. Bovlston! He early obtained the cooperation 
of the ministry, many like the Rev. Mr. Belcher of the 

[38] 



Dedham church, and his son-in-law, Rev. Thomas Walter 
of Roxbury, offering their bodies as proof of their faith 
and sincerity. Of the third classmate, Jonathan Bow- 
man, who, almost prophetically, stands just before Phil- 
lips Payson on the college rolls, I will speak later. 

On graduation, our pastor, setting an example which 
I find was ever afterward followed by his descendants 
down to the time of his worthy grandson, sought for 
some way to remiburse his parents for their self-sacrific- 
ing efforts in his education. There soon came a vacancy 
in the school of his boyhood which he gladly accepted. 
All the teachers had been eminent in their calling, college 
graduates from abroad at first, and then, like all the 
clergy around for scores of years afterward, graduates 
of the only college then here. Harvard. The amount of 
salary was not large, neither was the building, nor 
the number of his pupils, yet, be assured, both sufficed. 
What will you say when you consider that little precious 
civilizer of our forefathers cost them but the surprising 
total of $107.36. A whole schoolhouse, mark you, for 
$107.36! Its modern successor, dedicated three years ago, 
required as many thousands. I see before me pupils, 
schoolmates of that time when we had to walk over a 
mile to school, buying our own books, paying twelve 
dollars per quarter for tuition, and, in my own case, for 
years teaching without compensation, that we might 
have a high school here in towm — for there was no free 
high school then. What would your children say to that ^ 
Yet though you stuff and pamper the youth of to-day, 
and rob the public treasury year in and year out for 

[39] 



modern ideas of education, you finally have to acknowl- 
edge that the product, both in attainments and solid 
character, strangely fails to compare with that of those 
sturdy days of the past. 

However, our old pastor, ever aiming at the ministry, 
complied with a provision in his father's will by taking 
his A.M. at Harvard College, and contmued to teach the 
children of his neighborhood until, in the early spring of 
1729, the Town of Dorchester, from necessity, began to 
look about for an assistant to their aged pastor, Mr. Dan- 
forth. The committee chosen to make the selection 
resolved to select by three votes three candidates, from 
which again to choose by one final vote the much desired 
assistant. On the first ballot, we find classmate Jonathan 
Bowman received the highest vote. On the second bal- 
lot, Phillips Payson, our old pastor, who had ambitiously 
and with just claim appeared. On the third ballot, a 
Mr. Byles. Then came a while of nerve-racking de- 
liberation which boded ill for the Dorchester boy. The 
tide set against him, and learning what was to be his fate, 
he shook the dust of his native town from off his feet and 
came to this, then wild and uncultivated, infant agri- 
cultural township, of which he probably knew little, 
except that, in the year of his graduation from college, 
it had been set off from the old town of Dedham and 
called after the most noted man then before the public 
eye. Sir Robert Walpole, the prime minister of all Eng- 
land. The month before preaching his first sermon here 
the dreaded blow fell. To the coveted and justly de- 
served position over the church of his boyhood, neither 

[40] 



Byles nor our old pastor, but, as was well feared if not 
understood, his old Harvard classmate, Jonathan Bow- 
man, was called. We sympathize with Phillips Payson, 
although his loss was our gain. To understand the suc- 
cess of Bowman over Byles and Payson, one must remem- 
ber that Jonathan Bowman married the granddaughter 
of Rev. Increase Mather, the niece of Rev. Cotton Mather, 
and great-grandchild of Rev. John Cotton, the first 
minister of Boston. See that influence! No wonder 
that our Dorchester boy was beaten in the race. Many 
another has since found the same fate and under less 
compelling circumstances. 

He immediately came here, came single, free and 
clear from all encumbrances, with no entangling alliances, 
and kept so, despite parental encouragement and, no 
doubt, numerous female wiles. He was gladly accepted 
by others than the numerous unmarried daughters. The 
men, fresh from an unusual church experience, were 
only too glad to get him, even though he appeared rather 
too unappreciative of their numerous progeny. In his 
letter of acceptance, he says: 

An Answere to the call which the People of Wallpole gave to me to 
Engage in the Worke of the Minstry among them Octobre the 20th, 1 729 : 

Whereas it has pleased the Great sheperd and Bishop of Soules to 
incline and move the hearts of this his People to invite me to the Pastoral 
Office over them I return my hearty Thanks to you for alt that Respect 
which you have shown to me here and for all that encorigment hereby 
that you have given me herefor, but being somewhat sensabele of my 
owne Weekness for and Unworthyness of such grate Work and Charge 
called to in Love and upon this account wareof with many other Dificltis 

[41] 



attending of it, I have labored under many Discoragments and Fears, 
but upon a close Applicafion for Heavens direckfion after sensabel and 
sattiffying Advice from wife and good Men, and after a serious reverant 
Confideration of it in my owne mind I find myself inclined and moved 
to, and now I hope in the Feare of God in the Name of Christ and through 
the Asistans of His holy Spirit and depending upon the Supply of His 
Grace except of the call given upon Condi fions that you will ingage to 
supply me with what Wood I shall want and that it be brot to the Plafe 
where I shall live in the Towne of Wallpole, and sutabelefor the Fire or 
Fires that I shall have an Occasion for from Tyme to Tyme, to be about 
fower Feet in Length so longe as I shall continue to bee your Minifter, 
if this Requeste bee complide with you may take this for an Acceptans 
of your Invitatione and soe shall bee your Humbele and Oblidged Servt. 

Phillips Payson. 



It was not until he had been here quite three years that 
he selected his future home, the old parsonage on Main 
Street. The family had a large number of girls, but he 
seemed quite content to take only the premises, I find. 
In 1732, Ebenezer Fales and Thomas Clap deeded to 
him one of the oldest English habitations in this part of 
the country. It comprised some thirty acres of beautiful 
meadow, sloping away to the Neponset River, and fertile 
field and garden, with a commodious house and barn. 
It had been the Peter Fales place, and his widow, Abigail, 
reserved all her rights for life. Our pastor probably 
boarded with her. This place in my childhood included 
that of Daniel Payson, Jason Ellis, James Hartshorn, and 
Charles D. Hartshorn, and the house was then standing. 
By an unusual coincidence, one of my own family drew, 
took the acknowledgment, and signed this deed, as our old 
pastor and wife had similarly done for my own homestead. 

[42] 




THE FIRST MEETING-HOUSE OF WALPOLE, THE CHURCH OF 

THE REV PHILLIPS PAYSON, SR. 
Situated on the ivcst central part of the old Meeting-IIoufic Comiiton, 

Walpole Centre. The hill was afterwards removed for a site for the 

second meeting-house 







2 '^ 

05 e 



J5> 



..- § 



f/2 



•SCL. 



?3 Ci, 






fen 






^ ^ 



s ^ 5 






T3 g: 



One year after acquiring this parsonage, Phillips Pay- 
son brought home his first wife, Anne Swift, the daughter 
of the Rev. John Swift of Framingham. I say first wife, 
for our pastor courageously took no less than three in his 
earthly pilgrimage. Their first son, in that good old- 
tashioned custom, was called after the father, Phillips. 

I have not time to more than touch upon the lives and 
merits of our pastor's many children. Four of his six 
sons were dedicated to God's service. Phillips, like the 
rest of our early Walpole boys, roamed our fields and 
woods, fished in our streams, and, above all, went to 
school in the same old schoolhouse of our grandparents' 
days, just this side of the Lewis Batting Mills. On being 
prepared, his parents sent him away to the college of his 
father over in Cambridge, where for four years he was 
in constant intercourse and friendly rivalry with no less 
a personage than the president of our Continental Con- 
gress, the Governor of the State, John Hancock. On his 
graduation from Harvard College, in 1754, he continued 
studying and teaching, having children of Gen. William 
Heath, Governor Sullivan, and Dr. Joseph Warren in 
charge, and was early called and settled over the church 
at Rumney Marsh, Chelsea, where he remained through 
a long and preeminently useful life. He early became 
an oflficer of the American Society of Arts and Sciences, 
among whose papers can be found numerous contribu- 
tions from his pen, although much of his reputation rests 
on his patriotic speeches and sermons; one on the death 
of the lamented Washington, which occurred just before 
his own. He was an ardent patriot. 

[43] 



On that eventful 19th of April, the alarm that the 
British Regulars had set out to capture our public stores 
at Concord was hurriedly given to my great-uncle, then in 
command of the company here. He hastily gave order for 
the drum to sound, and hurriedly bidding his wife good-by 
led his little Walpole band (I want all you Paysons to 
know that among his men were George and Seth Payson) 
over hills and through swamps towards the glorious con- 
flict. While from the opposite direction, later in the day, 
cheering on a little band of his parishioners, over marsh, 
hill, and stream, came the Chelsea clergyman, until, 
musket in hand, he encounters the returning redcoats, 
attacks them, captures not only redcoats but the stolen 
stores, and holds them. I want all Paysons to remember 
that three of the sons of our old pastor served on that 
glorious day of liberty. It is a greater and higher honor 
than all the D.D.'s or LL.D.'s you can count from 
school or college from now to eternity. 

I take an equal pride in the worthy man who, now un- 
known, but who early represented this town in General 
Court, and whose name once was here on every one's lips, 
and who now, with his faithful wife, Joanna Lewis Bullard, 
sleeps next to his old pastor, and among many of his 
gallant band in yonder old cemetery. 

When Phillips Payson, jr., reached home that night 
he did not begin boasting to his wife that he had captured 
the whole British army, but calmly sat down and wrote a 
sermon; and that sermon, known as "Lessons from the 
Battle of Lexington," is to-day the basis of much of his 
present reputation. 

[44] 



Our pastor's next son to be born in the old parsonage 
was called, after his grandfather, Swift. He was not sent 
to college, but aided his father about the place, served his 
country in the War of the Revolution, became a large land 
owner, and was the grandfather, through James, who was 
in my father's time a substantial manufacturer in Foxboro, 
of the Samuel Russell Payson referred to, and also of our 
public-spirited neighbor, E. P. Carpenter of the same place. 

Then there came a son whom our pastor called, after 
his grandfather Payson, Samuel. He was at once destined 
for the ministry, and was early sent to his father's old 
college, where he, after four years' study, was graduated, 
and soon went to Lunenburg, Mass., to preach. His 
short life was soon ended. The Rev. Mr. Morse speaks 
of him in this most eloquent phrase, that Samuel was the 
most talented of the whole Payson family. We need 
seek no higher praise. Knowing well the merits of his 
brothers, Phillips, jr., and Seth, I feel that I can add 
nothing to that simple but beautiful eulogy. 

Then there came a son John. He was the third to be 
devoted by Phillips and Anne Payson — for the mother 
surely has equal claim to all honor here to-day — to the 
then sacred ministerial calling. He was early sent to 
Harvard College and after four years' study and com- 
panionship with Caleb Strong, afterwards Governor of 
the State, he was graduated, and soon went up farther 
away from home than his brothers, to the first church in 
the then wilds of Fitchburg, where he continued preach- 
ing and working with hand and pen the remainder of his 
long and useful life. 

[45] 



The mother having died, our pastor brought to the old 
parsonage a second wife, Kezia, the widow of Deacon 
Seth Morse of Medfield. Her husband and two sons 
had lost their lives in trying to ford the waters of the 
swollen Charles. She had, however, a daughter, Judith, 
of whom our pastor became guardian. The first son of 
this union was Seth, who was the fourth and last of the 
family to enter the ministry. He, like his older brothers, 
was soon sent away to Harvard College, where he asso- 
ciated for four years with our well-known ambassador 
and signer of the Declaration of Independence, Rufus 
King. This son was ardent and untiring in everything 
he undertook. Even while in college he served in my 
uncle's Walpole company six days on the Lexington 
campaign, and seems to have an unusual keen enjoyment 
of laborious endeavor for itself alone. 

On entering the ministry, he went even farther away 
from his old Walpole home, passing up by his brothers 
even into the wilds of New Hampshire under the shadow 
of old Monadnock, Rindge. To speak of his untiring 
zeal and labors there would require a volume. He early 
interested himself in a new college called Dartmouth, 
became one of its trustees, and, besides his usual parish 
work, took long journeys, and always in the style of the 
time, on horseback, to Cambridge, to New Haven, where 
another new college had sprung up, and even across 
country to Philadelphia, all for the college. He also 
represented his district in the legislature, and valorously 
posted to convention, church, and council, until his wife, 
Grata, who was a near kinswoman from Pomfret, ear- 

[46] 




REV. EDWARD PAYSON 

Grandson of Rev. Phillips Payson, Sr., whom, 
it is said, he closely resembled 



nesth' protested, even to tlie churcli nieiiihers. I^oth Yale 
and DartnioLith honored him with degrees. Of the works 
of his pen, perhaps the better known is a work on secret 
societies, one of vital interest then, and even now of con- 
siderable moment, when one considers our numerous 
political cabals and business trusts. 

Of his children 1 cannot overlook his worthy and 
talented son Kdward. Born of Payson parentage on 
both sides, one would naturally expect in this child all 
the best and strongest Payson (jualities in their most re- 
fined j)erfecti()n, and from that standpoint alone lulward 
is a most interesting study. 1 used to think, in my boy- 
hood, that the predominant characteristics of the l^ayson 
family were these: impulsiveness and easy resignation to 
circumstances, which in a Christian means rare /eal and 
readiness to accept everything as heaven-sent. Edward 
was not sent to Harvard, as his father had been, for the 
Freshman year, probably on account of his not being 
strong and lusty like the usual country youth, but he 
succeeded in afterwards entering one year in advance, 
and graduated with his class. 

By the advice and aid of his old tutors, Tappen and 
Pearson, he began, soon after graduation, teaching at an 
academy in Portland, llie associations ever after kept 
him in that place until his death, and no name in its 
church history shines brighter than that of the Rev. 
Kdward Payson; for, from teaching, he rose to the 
pulpit, first going there as assistant to the Rev. Mr. 
Kellogg, and finally as his successor. While teaching he 
determined to study law, and many well-known law 

[47 J 



phrases are ever after thrusting themselves into his writ- 
ings. At another time he expresses the w^ish that he 
might Hve away back on some quiet httle farm. One day, 
as his horse approached a brook, it stumbled and threw 
its rider, dislocating his right shoulder. He, according 
to his own recital of what happened, bathed his temples 
until he had recovered strength to rise, then, mounting 
a projecting support, attempted to gain his saddle; but 
the old Payson impulsiveness betrayed him, and he 
missed the saddle and shot over upon the hard ground 
beyond. Providentially, he relates, he so fell that the 
blow restored the limb to its place. But providential 
as it might have seemed to him then, it never in after 
life ceased to trouble him, till finally for years, to his 
death, he was obliged to write his sermons with his left 
hand and preach with his right arm hanging helplessly 
by his side. His whole left side soon became affected, 
burning with a stinging sensation almost unendurable. 
I may be pardoned, that you may understand the rare 
simplicity and spirituality of the man, for speaking of a 
few incidents mentioned in his letters to his mother. 
On utter failure of health he left Portland for recupera- 
- tion at his old Rindge home, where he was carefully and 
tenderly attended by both mother and sister. One day 
he was missing, and the parents were surprised to soon 
hear from him that he was back in his old Portland 
pulpit. In fact, ill as he was, he could not keep away. 
His whole soul was bound up in his work. 

But a still greater surprise fell on them shortly after, 
on receipt of a letter substantially saying, "Mother, you 

[48] 



know we once alluded to the importance of certain acts 
with relation to their serious effect on our and others' 
future, but without the loss of an hour's time, and with- 
out going out of my way a single mile, I have found a 
person who gives me more happiness than any one I ever 
new. 

You can imagine the alarm among those who regarded 
him as weak both m strength and body, and possibly 
fated to an early grave. His mother, true and sensible, 
returned what seemed a rather severe disapproval. To 
which he replied, " Mother, how could you treat a subject 
that means so much happiness to me so! I wish I had 
never mentioned it. I know she is good and will make 
me happy." He changes a little later and says, "What 
if God sees fit to punish me with a bad wife, who am I 
that I should complain.?" In justice, I must state that 
this lady was a woman of decided character and after- 
wards buoyed him up in many a moment of depression. 
Soon after came the rather startling-^ "Mother: We have 
just returned from our journey "— wedding journey of 
course — ; " and from defect in harness or some cause, the 
horses ran away three times, and only stopped when their 
strength became exhausted." Happy, happy man! How 
could he have endured that terrestrial-aerial flight other- 
wise! Yes, Edward Payson was happy! The rare 
boyishness of his nature, and spirituality of his refined 
soul, saw neither danger nor fear, and without those 
quahoes he could never have attracted around and to 
him the thousands that flocked to hear his earnest appeals 
for their perishing souls; for he stood forth, alike a flamina 

[49] 



sword and burning firebrand, always in the van for salva- 
tion, and yet all love and gentleness, preaching as long 
as strength sufficed, as few men ever preached, standing 
erect in the pulpit, his right arm hanging helplessly by 
his side, and his earnest voice charming and subduing 
all hostile opposition. He preached until his family, 
from fear of total exhaustion, tried to insist on his not 
going to church; and still to the anxious callers he 
preached, and at last, with a last feeble effort, he pinned 
upon his expiring breast this earnest appeal — "Remem- 
ber the words I spake unto you when I was yet present 
with you," which were engraved on his casket and soon 
tearfully read by thousands at his funeral. 

His was a pitiably short career, but how glorious! 
For years his earnest appeals were eagerly read and re- 
read by our New England people, in the three volumes 
of sermons gathered and published after his death by 
his widow, and we look back upon him now as on Savon- 
arola or some of those old religious heroes, who, though 
physically feeble, prayed while they should have been 
quietly sleeping, and fasted when they ought to have been 
plenteously eating, and all for the good of the human 
soul, until the zealous, sacrificing spirit, burned clear 
of all earthly dross, soared away triumphant. 

But our worthy old pastor had still another son, called 
George, who, in return for his assistance at home, was 
given all of his father's realty, on condition of payment of 
several legacies to the rest of the family. He it was that 
accompanied his brother Seth in the campaign of 1775, and 
many of whose descendants I gladly see before me to-day. 

[50] 



A few years before dissolution, our pastor, having lost 
his second wife, married a kinswoman, Sarah Mather, 
widow of Thomas Mather and daughter of Deacon 
Edward Payson of Pomfret, Conn., but on the 19th of 
January, 1778, feeling ill, he called in his neighbor, Mr. 
Kingsbury, and prepared his last will and testament, 
stating therein that it was very uncertain how long his 
life would be further spared; a most interesting document 
in which he divided his library between his sons Phillips 
and John, gives all a legacy, the silver tankards, loving 
cups, and other interesting reminders of substantial New 
England life of that period to all, and the homestead to 
his home son George, as follows: 

WILL OF PHILLIPS PAYSON 

In the name of God amen. The nineteenth day of January, in the 
year of Our Lord one thoufand seven hundred & seventy-ei^ht — I, 
PhilHps Payson of Walpole in the County of Suffolk in the State of the 
Mafsachusetts Bay in New England, Clerk; knowing that it is appointed 
unto men once to die, yet not knowing the day of my death & being of 
sound disposing mind & memory blefsed be God, do make & ordain 
this my last will & Testament — that is to say, In the first & chief place, 
I commend my Spirit into the Hands of God who gave it, looking for 
the mercy of God through Jesus Christ, unto Eternal Life. I commit 
my body to the earth, to be decently buried, according to the discretion 
of my Exor. hereinafter named. And in respect to such worldly estate 
wherewith it hath pleased God to endow me, I give, devise & dispose of 
the same in manner following. In primis, It is my will & pleasure that 
all my just debts & funeral charges be paid with all convenient speed 
after my decease in manner as hereafter provided & specified. Item 
I hereby give &: bequeath to Sarah my well beloved wife, the improve- 
ment of one-third of my real Estate during her natural life, & all the 

[51] 



household furniture & her wearing apparel, she having forecluded her- 
self from all others my personal Estate by a contract between us prior 
to marriage. Item I hereby give & bequeath to my beloved son 
Phillips I ayson, besides what I have already given him, the one half 
of my Library, my silver tankard & one hundred pounds lawful money, 
to be paid him by executor hereafter named, as soon as may be after my 
decease. Item I hereby give & be(|ueath unto my beloved son, Swift 
Payson, besides what I have already given him, twenty pounds lawful 
money & also a note of Forty pounds which I have against him & also 
the least of my two handled silver cups. Item I hereby give & bequeath 
unto my beloved son, George Payson, my dwelling house & all my 
buildings in Walpole & also all my real Estate in Walpole, the same to 
him, his heirs, & assigns forever, & also all my stock & also all my out- 
door moveables & my desk & the largest two-handled silver cup, my 
silver pepper box, two large silver spoons & six silver teaspoons. Item 
1 do hereby give & bequeath unto my beloved son, John Payson, be- 
sides what he hath already had, the one half of my Library & also the 
sum of Forty pounds lawful money, to be paid by my executor hereafter 
named, as soon as may be after my decease, & also my small silver cup 
with one handle. It is my further will that all my indoor moveables 
exclusive of those before mentioned that have been given away, & also 
my wearing apparel be equally divided between my four sons before 
mentioned, but in case any of them should have or make any demands 
on my E!state, my will is that the same value be deducted out of what 
I have or shall have hereby bequeathed to them respectively. Item 
I hereby give & bequeath to my beloved son Seth Payson, forty pounds 
lawful money, as also all the money due to me as a Guardian for him, 
or administrator on the Estate of his Sister, Judith Morse, deceased, 
with the Interest which is or may be due upon bond or note for said 
money. Finally, I hereby give & bequeath to my beloved son George, 
all bonds notes & debts whatsoever which shall be due to me at my 
decease, not before mentioned, he paying the several Legacies above 
mentioned as soon as may be after my decease, & also my debts & 
funeral charges & I hereby constitute & appoint my son George Payson 
the above Executor of this my last will & testament & utterly renouncing 

[52] 



&: disallowing all other, I hereby ratify & confirm this, & this only to 

be such. In Witness whereof I have hereunto set my hand & seal, the 

day & year first written. 

Phillips Payson [Seal] 

Signed, sealed, pronounced & delivered by the sd Phillips Payson to 

be his last Will & Testament in presence of us 

Saml. Cheney 

Jon"' Kendall 

B. Kingsbury, Jr. 

Three days later he expired. He was not, in the old 
sense, gathered unto his fathers, but gently borne a little 
way down the street to the spot where so many who, on 
his first coming to Walpole, forty-nine years before, gave 
him kindly greeting, silently awaited him. 

I cannot leave this old spot, that old home of the 
dead, so full of our patient, toiling ancestors, yet so little 
known or remembered, without some passing tribute. 

There was connected with our namesake Walpole's 
family, in the time of our old pastor, one by the name of 
Gray, whose name was even here a household word. 
Prime minister Walpole had offered him that coveted 
position, the poet lauriateship of all England, but he, 
in his gentle modesty, declined. Afterward Walpole's 
influence obtained for him a professorship in history at 
Cambridge University. Gray was a mother's boy, and 
to her he ever was loyal and true to the very last. In the 
little church yard of Stoke Pogis he finally had laid her 
gently down, with this simple, heartfelt utterance alone 
to mark her grave. "Here, by the side of her sister and 
her friend, sleeps Dorothy Gray, the devoted mother of 
many children, one of whom, alone, had the misfortune 

[53] 



to survive her." And here, as was his custom to come, 
one evening just as the shadows of evening were fast com- 
ing on, and the villagers with their herds were toiling 
homeward from meadow and field, was penned so beauti- 
fully appropriate a tribute I can but appropriate it tor 
this occasion. As the bell in the church tower above 
sounds its evening warning, he thus begins — 

" 1 he curfew tolls the knell of parting day. 

The lowing herd winds slowly o'er the lea; 
The ploughman homeward plods his weary way, 
And leaves the world to darkness, and to me. 

Beneath those rugged elms, yon yew tree's shade 
Where heaves the turf in many a mouldering heap. 

Each in his narrow cell forever laid, 

The rude forefathers of the hamlet sleep. 

The hreezy call of incense breathing morn. 

The swallows twittering from the straw-built shed, 

The cock's shrill clarion, or the echoing horn. 
No more shall rouse them from their lowly bed. 

No more for them the blazing hearth shall burn. 

Or busy housewife ply her evening care; 
No children run to lisp their sire's return, 

Or climb his knee the envied kiss to share. 

Oft did the harvest to their sickle yield, 

Their furrow oft the stubborn glebe has broke; 

How jocund did they drive their team afield; 

How bowed the woods beneath their sturdy stroke! 

[54] 



Far from the madding crowd's ignoble strife, 
Their sober wishes never learned to stray; 

Along the cool, sequestered vale of life, 

They kept the noiseless tenor of their way. 

Nor you, ye proud, impute to these the fault. 
If memory o'er their tomb no trophies raise, 

Where, through long-drawn aisle and fretted vault. 
The pealing anthem swells its note of praise. 

No further seek their merits to disclose, 

Or draw their frailties from their dread abode, 

They there, alike, in trembling hope, repose 
In the bosom of their father and their God." 



Lore. [55] 



